Really Pointless Sidewalk

Sidewalk Ends, Brownsville TX, ca. 1999.

I took this in Brownsville, Texas, in about 1999. My caption, written on the back of the printed photo (below), is "? Wheelchair-accessible lawn."

The quality leaves much to be desired, since it's a scan.

P.S. Happy National Coffee Day! Please just remember to use a reusable mug and buy shade-grown, organic, fair trade whenever possible. Also, support your local roaster =)

Mr. Yuk Ghost

Mr. Yuk/Pac Man Ghost, SF, 2011.

This graffiti ghost reminds me of a cross between Mr. Yuk and one of the Pac-Man ghosts (Inky, Pinky, Blinky, and Clyde). His sour expression is perhaps a reaction to the foul smell of the water treatment plant next to which he resides. Even the smell of fennel in the foreground isn't enough to overpower the smell of treated water going back into the Bay. He floats on an I-280 freeway piling at the Channel Pump Station at the head of Mission Creek -- well, actually, the Mission Bay Canal -- in San Francisco. 

The Channel Pump Station itself has some pretty cool tile work (although the phrase "lipstick on a pig" comes to mind). Click to zoom...

Channel Pump Station, 2011.

Initiating the Weekend Mode

The Cocktails Concept, Bruno's SF, 2011.

 Whether "Cocktails" are your thing or not, Friday is a good day to initiate your own weekend mode. Take a longer route home. Read. Touch the Earth with your hands or feet. Drink in some sun. Get a massage. Pet an animal. Get a haircut. Check out surf reports. Play sports. Watch sports. See live music.  Cook something new and don't fear failure. Do a crossword. Contact an old friend. Spend time with family. Make a new acquaintance. Follow one of your established routines, but break another.

Get outside and try to observe something that's changed since last time you were in a park. Or go to a park and make a focused observation that you'll notice is different next time you return. Share it with someone, or log it in your journal. You will be happy that you did! (I promise)

In addition to the concept behind the word, I feel like the festive font used here is worth sharing. This word appears on the façade of Bruno's, a Mission nightclub that seems to have been a fixture here since cursive was invented. Their website claims that they are SF's "most unique nightclub", which seems hard to back up. But, they have been around for over 60 years, and apparently they still have what it takes to bring Kiefer Sutherland in the door for his movie premieres.

USA Shed, Rural Illinois

I took this on the way to my friends Brian and Diana's wedding in Peoria, IL, a few years ago. I was to be usher. I was in a bit of a hurry -- enough that I got a speeding ticket on the way -- but luckily not enough of a hurry to pass this shed without a photo-op. ("Photo of a run-down shed for your blog? Priceless.")

I spent about 45 minutes early this morning trying to find where it is in Google maps. I scrolled through miles of aerial photographs of highway, to no avail. But, it's more about the journey than the destination, right? While attempting to locate this barn, I found lots of cool patterns in corn and soybean fields. I saw lots of shadows cast by billboards. I found a dump in Tonica, Illinois. I found what I think is a cell or radio tower near Oglesby. 

But I should have taken notes. I don't know where this shed is. I wonder how often the owner re-paints his or her tribute to Old Glory on the tin roof of this dilapidated structure.

USA Shed, rural Illinois, 2008.

Arctostaphylos!!

'Just wanted to give props to my coworker Shelley, whose pictures of the Franciscan manzanita made it to the NYT Green Blog three days ago!

http://green.blogs.nytimes.com/tag/franciscan-manzanita/

Take 9 minutes to watch this video.

And while you're inspired, comment on the US Fish and Wildlife Service's proposal to list the Franciscan manzanita as a federally endangered species. The 60-day public comment period began on September 7.

Here's a pic I took of the Raven's manzanita, also extremely rare and federally endangered, that grows in the Presidio and is also tended to by Shelley.

Raven's manzanita, April 2010.

Taking it Too Seriously # 2

Fort McDowell Light Switch, Angel Island, 2011.

You don't need to physically remove the entire light switch. Just turn off the lights when not in use.

I would love to expand on this, citing research about when the energy conservation movement began in the US; how perhaps it began on Army bases like this one; especially Army bases on self-contained islands. But I am not in much of a condition to do more surfing and type it all here, so I will save this for another time. 

This is in an abandoned Army building on Angel Island. It's a pretty cool place to wander through, although all the stairs to the upper floors have been obliterated for public safety concerns.

Self-timer fun on bike

Cross Marin Self-Portrait, 2011.

Believe it or not, I appear in this photograph. I'm the faint ghost of a blur that runs parallel to the path and above it. I really just appear as an off-color smudge across the frame. Using a signpost as a tripod, I set the camera's self-timer to go off after a delay of 15 seconds, then biked away from the camera, and back in the camera's direction for an 8-second exposure. I turned on my bike light for an additional trail, but it didn't really come through. The aperture was all the way down to f22 and light was very low, so with 400 ASA film I was able to get rich colors without much grain. I'm really happy with the color -- so many shades of green. 

This is along the Cross Marin Trail, which is kind of self-explanatory -- it runs across Marin County. Wait, except it doesn't! It's just over 5.3 miles long. Hm, so I don't really get the name. But as is evident when riding it, it is the bed of a former railway parallel to Sawmill Creek. 

I took this two weekends ago, while on a bike camping trip to Samuel P. Taylor State Park, a last biking hurrah before undergoing shoulder surgery last week.

Worthwhile Graffiti .

Treasure Island "Boobies," 2011.

If you can't properly illustrate something great* that inspires you, you might as well write about it. I applaud this artist's brevity.

This appears on an abandoned building on Treasure Island, an island created out of bay dredge in the late 1930s. If you live in SF, I strongly encourage you to take the bus out there sometime and explore for a few hours. It's kind of a modern marvel. The overall feel of the place is very deserted, especially mid-day on a weekday. 

The Wiki entry for Treasure Island has all the info you need. It's interesting to see how much has been filmed there. 

*in this case, the inspiration is obvious.

Charred Split Rail Fence, Angel Island, 2011.

 On October 12, 2008, a campfire-caused wildfire raged on Angel Island, burning about 250 acres, or a third of the island. The fire created a glow that I remember seeing when I was on the way to see a friend play a gig. I looked west on Van Ness Avenue and saw only this yellow glow, unable to see over a hill to the Bay. I thought it strange that so late on a Sunday evening, some event in the distance was creating a glow bright enough to be seen from afar. I couldn't tell where it was coming from -- but normally, night events generating lots of light also generate lots of noise.

I found out the next day that it was this wildfire. Having only been in SF for a month then, I was missing out on prescribed fire season happening for my old coworkers in Chicago. So somehow I felt almost like I'd missed out twice.

Upon visiting Angel Island a few weeks ago, I looked for clues of fire across the landscape. I don't know enough about the vegetative ecology of the site before this fire, so I couldn't pick up on much. Mostly charred bark on the downwind sides of trees and still black, gnarled branches of coyote brush. But this one was pretty clear. I found it interesting how the fire had burned this split rail fence enough to destroy the supporting portion of a few horizontal pieces, making them fall out of the slots in the vertical posts. 

Since the State Park budget is in the tank, this fence may remain in this forlorn state for a while. Maybe it's not forlorn as long as it still tells a story. In fact, it tells a better story than it did when it was new.